A Sarcastic Fire
by ConicalArtist
Summary: Basic: Contains a story, the story reflects on the change of the life of a certain individual when he happens to have a tiny little accident. Shibe: so amaze. wow. much word. wow. Rundown: Vulpix TF in initial chapters (?), more characters to be interduced, planning storyline if first chapters are not rejected. In test run.
1. Chapter 1

~~~

It wasn't ever easy to fit in. Not ever. Not from the beginning. I was a sensitive boy. Looks burned, seared like ice on salt covered skin, tearing coldly through the soul. I was simple and I was weak. No more than a child amongst men. Men children of the grades. How intriguing one would think. That such a weak being could climb and claw so far, so easily, yet so painfully up. Up from a life of limp arms and undeveloped tissues, and again from a life of boredom and haze of lack. I was no more than a pristine example of luck, or, as one in a similar situation but moreover a better human than I was, would hate. People as I had known them would envy to be where I am. Where I am and where I live in a world of cheery young beings, waiting patiently to guide themselves through a facade of hardship, adrenaline, and kinship. The beings are my friends. Friends of fire, water, and grass. I remember my life as a boy... But that was the world I'd left behind, and now I will share with you, so omniscient of a creature you are, what, exactly I have done to be in such a… Favorable, position.

~~~

Naive. Young. New. Wrong. All fitting. I was strange. I loved it though. I loved my hate. My hate that I was receiving. Such an outcast I was, such an individual, though I was such an unoriginal boy. I would wear the same comically relevant clothes every day. I would go and fetch my self education at the local academy and call quits for the day. Simple, easy, and most of all, stupid. Lovely and easy it was for my child shell to perform such ample tasks. I was a juvenile of 15 and nothing more. Never, more. For that day was important, uneventful as it seemed. Happy child, I was, simply waiting by the bus stop, staring at the asphalt, wondering what was buried underneath, content with absolutely nothing at all. Waiting as always, for the hulking mass of steel and cushion to come slowly barreling next to my tiny and fragile flesh bound soul of intelligence, where I found myself pleased quite greatly for finding soft, warm refuge from the gray, thin air of the city of scholars. Today, and that day only was I traveling to the academy to receive a slightly different education. One of the eyes and the appendages. One of the heart. One of the body. I would see what I had so closely studied. Naively believing that my research would very much study me back. And nothing more. Nobody liked me. As I have previously inquired. So I would stage my research, alone. Such a normal thing the oddity was. Though contradicting I am it was none other than the most interesting piece of material I've ever laid hands on, and it was a rock. Round, hard, dull. And yet it was. Was this unnatural thing. It had been excavated from Twist Mountain not more than 3 days ago and was taken to the academy for studies as a plaything. We were to determine the chemical makeup of these complex… Entities. For mine was one at least. I could have stared at the magnificently simple stone for weeks. If it was not for the entity for which I have already implied. I would probably have starved myself to death. How uneventful that would have been. My cheery former self would have to wait to die a different day. So it did. It did what it was meant to do. Make things. But what could it make? With? What? How? That simply would not do. It would have to serve a purpose, oh yes, it could not simply wait another day for such a similar opportunity for it was an impatient stone. And so it made do with change. Why? You may ask, why did it change? No, no, my my overseer, my observator, my omniscient fiend it simply had to change me. And so it was. That so very evening that I was staring so happily dumb into the face of a rock that so eagerly wanted me to touch it that it almost seemed a dare. A double dare. A triple dare. And so I simply couldn't. Couldn't put off the pressure. So I touched it. And friend. It very well touched back. It quite simply thew back what all it knew. All. And nothing more. And so it was that I was no longer to be human that day. I would watch with all the curiosity of a still being of the night locked onto the peculiar substance so adhered to my phalange, my long fingery appendage. And it assumed the shape similar to that of what it is now. So shortened it became. Powerful thick bones, began to assimilate across the stubby hand, a hand not for grabbing, groping, and grinding. A hand for the laying upon the earth's damp soil, the sweet smell of the rotting leaves and needles lightly poking against the soft pads of this hand for which it was meant. And so rapidly I grew. Grew slowly into a brown creature, so reddish brown creature, of fire that I was. And so I compensated. My body knew the world and my body did not. So I plead you now omniscient creature, omniscient kit. Learn now. Or forever be in-

~~~

3rd of May

I had my day planned out. I was good to go. Enthusiasm filled my veins.

"Hey Devan, I need you to head to the store! We're out of milk again…"

Unacceptable. Inconceivable. Outrageous. Unavoidable. I shrugged with incompetence. Defeated simply enough by the simplicities of my own actions. I had to laugh though. How ironic that he managed to get out of trainer school with these memory skills.

"Alright…"

Nothing else needed to be said really. He was rooming with Eric. He really couldn't ask for better. He thought of no one better really. How lucky was he to get a room with a friend he'd already made. Not to mention that they were both neck and neck with their gym titles. With 6 badges each they were no ordinary push overs, and never planned to be. Their pokemon were beloved, wonderful, things. Happy and everloving. He smiled at the thought. Heading for the door while throwing on this tan leather jacket. It was winter in this cold town. Snow was lightly falling and he hesitated not for going to the store. It was a simple right turn on the heel and bee line for the bridge. Devan stared at the ground watching amusedly as his breath fogged as he exhaled. One would laugh at the sight of a 17 year old playfully giggling at the sight of simple things such as that. But with bliss comes ignorance. And with ignorance, pain. He was nearly at the very beginning of the bridge when some ice on the side walk caught his boot and flung him to the harshly inclined hill. He tumbled messily.

"Fu-!"

Unintelligible sounds were made as he bounced painfully down the snow covered hill. Unlucky for him though. His arm caught a rock on the way down. As well as his head. Which may or may not have been more important. You decide. Not my job. Ahem. Now when Devan reached the bottom he was not in the most… happy of states. Devan began to fear that one of his ribs had broken but in order to check. He would have to move. Which may not have been a problem if it wasn't for his head and neck disagreeing quite vigorously against. Instead, he groaned. Eric would find out something was up and come looking for him. Right? Unfortunately for our friendly little rag doll that was not the case. For Eric had found himself quite comfortably resting on their worn and worn couch and could not help but dose of for a few minutes/hours/nights. And so our poor, poor Devan laid broken at the foot of a river. Waiting for a rescue from ice that never came. And on the contrary to his luck, Devan himself passed out, cold and numb in the soft embrace of the snow. Only half aware of what was to become of his poor soul.

~~~~~

FEED ME WITH COMMENTS! 3  
CHANGE WON'T COME IF CHANGE ISN'T INVITED!  
(Serious answers are adored, praises are invited)

I DO HOPE YA'LL ENJOYED! LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS WORTH A SEQUEL!


	2. Chapter 2

I must apologize. I must know well by now. That fate is never to be avoided. It seems you are well on your way now. So listen omniscient creature, so omniscient kit. Never doubt, never cry. One day you will meet me. And one day, that day will come. So listen well. For only so many times may I tell you. I am not far from your gray cold world. And soon. You will find yourself forced from that place. I trust you. That you'll look. You are a smart kit. And I can only hope that you will do well. So make friends kit. For you mustn't travel alone. You will be weak. But ever stronger. And you will be stronger, but ever so fragile… I do hope that I am not already too late. For the time has come for your biding to be done. For your form to change. But never your soul. Remember kit. You will change. But you will always be the same. Your body was never connected to your heart. Much as mine was. Whether blood or fire pumping through my veins it never failed me. And I know you. You could never fail. For you are much stronger than me. Your spirit rings with the power of a thousand bells. You are vibrant. You radiate to everything you come to. Just remember…

3rd of May: 10:00 PM

Devan rolled around. Eyes fluttering. Appendages numb. Cold. He jerked up. Only to be forced back down by the state of his chest. Something had punctured and he gasped for air. But there was something else. A weight. Hard, unrelenting, and cold on his chest as delicate as it was now.

He reached up.

The object was unbelievably smooth. Or at least from what he could feel from his hands. Poor guy almost had frostbite. He took it off of his chest and put it in his pocket. If he survived this ordeal. He would have this souvenir. At this point it was dark and Eric was obviously not coming. Devan coughed. His throat tasted of iron. It was dry and sad. Burning with each of his heaving pants. He rolled over. Holding in a cry, instead just groaning. Wearily, he stood, head cleared now from the fog of concussion. Devan made his way to the base of the bridge under the overpass, and sat. He dug for his phone. But when he found it he couldn't quite grab it. In fact. It seemed like he probably wouldn't he able to grab much at all. He removed his hand from the pocket of phone. And upon inspection. It probably wasn't normal to have a red paw for a hand. No. Probably not. It took a minute for Devan to register that the appendage was his. He stared. He really wasn't sure what to think. It's not like he could think much about it really. He rolled down his leather sleeve the furred appendage was cancerous. Holy shit. Okay. Having a paw just appear was strange. But watching the damn thing spread was quite a bit more unsettling. He squirmed a little, shuddering. It felt very odd. Then he realized that the hospital was no more than a mile and a half away. Devan scrambled to his feet.

"Okay.", he thought to himself, "I have a paw that's cancerous, probably a punctured lung, a definitely broken fore arm."

He sighed angrily and nervously, and ran a cold hand through his hair. He checked his furred arm again. No good. Butterflies bounded of the surface of his abdomen. He checked under the collar of his start. Feeling the fur ruffle uncomfortably against his clothing. It was well past his shoulder and down his side. Adrenaline shot through him like a bullet, as he realized what he himself would think of such a man. He thought about what the doctors and nurses would think of a fur covered, paw ridden boy walking into their hospital demanding service. It wasn't an option now. It was too far. But he ran anyways. He was scared. Very much so now that he had grasped fully the size of the situation. His thoughts could only train on his hopelessness. And he was timid now. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. He was too afraid. Afraid like a foreigner in a new country, nervous of contact with the locals. Because he now feared discrimination. How could he know what they'd think of him?

Devan was 17 years old. He would not cry. He saw his past goals pass by. He simply couldn't accomplish any of them covered the way he was. In this mocking pelt. He hid now. As he had ran before, behind an apartment building. He felt ashamed and unhappy. But mostly as if he was afflicted. Forced into it as if it wasn't his choice. It wouldn't come off. He knew very well. He was a walking carpet. His hands were paws, his feet were stubby… He wasn't done and he knew it. He wasn't dumb. He knew what was going to be of him. He groaned at his misfortune. His bones ached, his lungs heaved as if he wouldn't ever be able to breathe right again, he clutched at his sad arm. And he felt the change. And he cried.

I know the pain. It's not physical. No. That comes later. It is the ache of the lonely soul. Caught in the illusion of a salt flat. With none there to help. Comfort you. Aid you. The feeling of an individual on a white back ground. In an abyss of blinding light. So blinded you will be not to notice that there is always an onlooker. Always an ally. A friend. They will come to you. And well… I can't help but brag that you will look so hopeless that you will be impossible to ignore. And don't question. I know well enough exactly what to expect of you…

Light blinded Devan. He'd passed out. It was very early he guessed. But that was not of the matter. He could not grasp why he was covered. He had fallen to sleep on the side of a building. Or maybe it was a dream. Yes! How foolish of him not to think of it that way! He tried to throw his covers off. He heavy leather moved only to the side. Any excitement that Devan had was gone now. How…? He was acclaimed by butterflies again. Devan scrambled to get the fabrics off of him. He felt small. Very much so. He pushed himself up only to find that his head weighted him down and his back locked him forward. A muzzle. A… muzzle was obstructing his vision. And his… Tails, brushed the clothes, not yet free from their weighted grasp. Devan wanted to fall asleep again. He was not human. It occurred to him that he probably wouldn't be so well off standing in this awkward tripodal position forever, having to use three of his four, well, legs. His throat was still iron and dry and his breathing was watery and shallow. He stood and stared at himself the most he could in that dumb position for a good long while. He… It was so odd. He couldn't grasp the situation. Not alone. Someone needed to tell him. Tell him exactly what he was. And only then would he accept what had happened. Maybe not even then. For now. He would go to the only place that made any sense.

He had simply slipped and fell for all he cared. Eric would tell him exactly what he needed to hear. And so Devan turned. And limped down the sidewalk.

FEED ME WITH REVEIEWS!

I LOVE FRIENDLY COMMENTS!

LET ME KNOW WHAT YA'LL WANT TO HAPPEN NEXT!


End file.
